Eat and stuff

You can't take your eyes off that ass, full and round and demanding your complete attention.

You feel your hands reaching before your mind catches up, wanting to grip, to squeeze, to pull it closer. You trace the curve of it in your imagination, that soft give of flesh under pressure, warm and real and right there.

You know exactly what you'd do given the chance — you'd start slow, working your way in, until there's nothing left in your head but this body, this moment, this overwhelming need to consume every inch.